A Tumble on The Mount of Beatitudes

Several years ago, the Lord made a way for me to fulfill one of my deepest desires – to see Greece, Italy and Israel. He graciously provided a way for me to see all three countries on a single journey, with a cruise through the Mediterranean Sea. It was profound adventure in many ways.

I walked the streets of Capernaum, sailed on the Sea of Galilee, visited Mamertine Prison, was baptized in the Jordan River, and explored the Island of Rhodes. In Rome we visited many ancient ruins, including a hurried visit to the Colosseum. As I walked through the entrance of this ancient arena, I heard the Lord say, “Why did you want to come here? Do you know what happened here?” He reminded me of the price that had been paid by many followers of Jesus.

It was a deeply spiritual pilgrimage – one which allowed me to literally walk in the footsteps of Jesus, the Apostles, and the early Christians. But perhaps my most vivid memory of that trip was falling on my face on top of the Mount of Beatitudes in front of several hundred tourists.

No, it wasn’t because of a divine encounter. It was because I am clumsy. And I tripped over a curb that had been painted a bright yellow to warn people.  But I had been focused on all the beautiful scenes around me. I wasn’t watching where I was going. So, I fell on my face – and it wasn’t a dainty or delicate fall. I recall rolling a few times, while hearing gasps and shouts of, “Oh no! Someone help her!” And they did. Several senior citizens came to my rescue and helped me get back up on my feet.

We had been heading toward an outdoor courtyard where four to five busloads of tourists were waiting for the next presentation on the history of the Mount. My traveling partner had gone on ahead and found a bench to sit on. She was patiently waiting for me to catch up and join her. She was primly perched on the edge of a stone bench with her purse clasped firmly on her lap in front of her – I know this, because I glanced up at her from my prone position on the ground.

I had fallen right in front of the audience – in the middle of the presentation area (it’s amazing what you can remember during traumatic events.) My traveling companion was desperately trying to act like she didn’t know me. She later told me she had heard a loud clattering as the contents of my bag spilled out all over the ground. She heard a commotion and saw people helping me to stand up. Others were gathering up my belongings like it was a scavenger hunt. I had made quite an entrance.

At the end of the tour, I returned to our bus – moving slightly slower than a few hours earlier. As members of our group shuffled past my seat, several individuals stopped to check in on me and ask how I was feeling. One spry octogenarian stopped to intently peer at me before stating,  “That’s gonna hurt tomorrow sweetie!” With a throaty chuckle, she bounded off to her seat in the back of the bus. The goofy picture above is me on the bus, immediately following that conversation!

She was right. It did hurt. I had a huge ugly bruise on my left thigh for the remainder of our trip.  Yes, it was embarrassing – but the people were kind and caring. I got over it quickly by reminding myself that I would never see these lovely people again in my life.

I have pondered the prophetic symbolism of this moment many times over the past few years – and while there are many possible insights, I sensed the Lord showing me that people can walk in the footsteps of Jesus, can be taught by Biblical teachers, can surround ourselves with other believers, and we can still trip and fall. It happens because we aren’t paying attention to where our feet are taking us.  

Interestingly, while there were many ages represented on the Mount that day, it was the elderly saints who helped me get back up on my feet again – and the elderly saints who checked in with me to see how I was doing.

There will be times through life when each of us will lose our footing and fall on our face. We can focus on the embarrassment, or we can thank God that there are wizened saints willing to help us get back up on our feet. We can focus on the painful bruises, or we can thank God for His goodness to us, even in the midst of our difficulties.  The choice is up to us!  After all, the bruising only lasts for a little while!